


you can't keep a good man down

by glorious_clio



Category: Star Wars
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:28:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/pseuds/glorious_clio
Summary: There's a few things Han hates more than official dinner parties that he and Leia are invited to (even if he can't think of them). He knows he's being a jerk but Leia doesn't enjoy them much either.





	

_Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future-_

  


Han Solo didn’t like a lot of things. Fancy state dinners in his uncomfortable dress uniform was high on that list, but had to be tolerated for the good of the Galaxy (and for his wife, which was the same thing). He still didn’t want to go. He itched at them, and not because of the scratchy wool in his jacket.  

He almost wished Goldenrod was here to tell him what damn spoon to use, because that nosy busybody Lady Carise Sindian was glaring at him for some minor infraction of proper etiquette. She had never hidden her snobby feelings for him. Han had an urge to pick up a glass and toast her, or even more appalling, to lean over and kiss Leia full on the mouth. He settled for a roguish wink in the _Lady’s_ direction. Her eyebrow shot up her forehead.

  


_so you know what keeps me hangin' around._

  


Leia leaned over and squeezed his arm consolingly.

“Not too much longer,” she promised in a whisper.

She’s tired, he can see it. She’s been at work all day, and only had time for a quick nap before this reception. And the baby is getting heavy, even for the strength of her back, her spine of steel. As excited as they are for the baby, he knows she’s counting down the weeks until she gets her body back.

  


_As you stone yourself just to make it through 'til midnight_  
_consider what you might have found.  
You think you've got a good thing now._

  


After dinner there were speeches and talk, but at least the alcohol was free flowing. It had to be, social lubricant was a necessity here.

He was immediately cornered, and words like “hero of the rebellion” were thrown at him. He shrugged them off with a practiced sentence or two, when Lady Carise called him the Prince Consort. Even though he’s told her not to. Even though Leia’s told her not to.

(“You’d think she’d at least listen to the woman she calls princess,” Han said once. “Since you outrank her.”

“She thinks it makes her more important, by way of association,” Leia had replied.)

It makes him feel like some sort of stud, valuable only because he knocked Leia up. It was not flattering. The kid wasn’t even here yet.

He glared at Lady Carise, but responded with a politeness that turned to ash in his mouth. He took another sip of his drink.  

  


_You've been known to obsess over the future  
_ _Do you think you'll get away from the past?_

  


Leia kept her promise, though, and they were out of there much sooner than he’d hoped he would be. In the hover-cab home, he peeled off the jacket that was too heavy with medals, rolled up his sleeves. Leia began trailing over his arms with her fingertips.  

She was talking in the way where she was not even saying anything. It was all about plans for the Galaxy and allies in the senate and the next steps for getting key legislation passed. He listened to what she wasn’t saying instead.

Lady Carise called her _princess_ too many times tonight.  

Han squeezed her hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the back of her hand, then flipped it over and kissed the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.  

She was so close to him that he could feel her shiver. Her mouth opened slowly, and no words came out. It was suddenly too warm; the windows were fogging up.    

The hover-cab couldn’t get them home soon enough.  

  


_All you feel is the current flowing through you  
_ _and seizing your infected heart._

  


They’re both warm and tired and it was enough to have her in his arms at the end of the night.

 

 _Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future-  
_ _so you know what keeps me hangin' around._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two months ago and hated it, but kept it in my googledocs. Can you hate something and want to keep them around? What is the sense in that? It just didn’t feel right to jettison it. It’s grim, I admit. I dunno. Maybe I’m becoming accustomed to being a bit grim now. It was so uncomfortable in December though. It’s still uncomfortable, if I’m honest. Urgh, sorry this is all pretentious and long-winded. 
> 
> Title and song lyrics come from “Topeka” by LUDO. Also I’d been watching The Crown.


End file.
